


It Will Work

by silver9mm



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Ficlet, Jealousy, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 08:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2102526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver9mm/pseuds/silver9mm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My entry to soullessbrothers second ficlet competition. I got honourary mention for creative genius, yay me. Original prompt: It’s too late. There’s a confrontation and now there are consequences. Is what happened worth it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Will Work

They watch the kid through the window. He’s eager and attentive, hanging on every grunt and gesture from Bobby, and Sam sees grudging approval on Dean’s face.  
  
“He’s got your enthusiasm for cars,” Sam says mildly.  
  
“Yeah. Can’t believe Bobby’s gonna let him stay here.”  
  
“Well, he’s a lot like you, only without the angst and laziness,” he jokes, but Dean frowns.  
  
“Do you wish I’d sent him back?” Sam asks.  
  
“No. Shit going on there was messed up. ‘Dr. Alastair’ is dead, but so is—you know, his, uh.”  
  
“His mate.”  
  
“But you didn’t know that, Sam!” Dean says, sudden vehemence in his voice.  
  
“He didn’t want to go back. He healed here. And it’s too late now. Twenty-four years before the moon is right again.”  
  
“Convenient. You wanted him, so you kept him.”  
  
“It’s a mutual feeling.”  
  
“Wanted a replacement for me.”  
  
“No, Dean. I brought you back, you jerk.”  
  
“Everything’s changed, Sam. You’ve got someone to come home to.”  
  
“Nothing’s changed. We’re still hunters. He wants to help. Bobby’s going to teach him to research. He’ll be an asset.”  
  
“Yeah, just once in awhile you’ll have to come back and play house…” Dean toes the floor sullenly. Sam barely keeps from laughing, glad Dean is looking down.  
  
“Dean, are you jealous?”  
  
“What, no. I dunno. It’s just _weird_.”  
  
“’Cause he looks like you?”  
  
“Duh!” Dean glances at Sam, then away. He starts pacing; battling. Stops to study a three-year-old calendar.  
  
“ _Is_ _it_ , Sam? Because he looks like me?”  
  
“A little.”  
  
“Sam.”  
  
“You never wanted me like that, Dean.”  
  
“You never _asked_ ,” Dean mutters.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Dammit, Sam! You never asked! You never said anything, did anything. How was I supposed to know?”  
  
“I… I’m sorry? I just assumed—”  
  
“Whatever. Glad you’re happy now, at least. Got something you wanted.”  
  
Sam moves between the wall and Dean. His brother doesn’t back up.  
  
“I want you, Dean. Got you back, didn’t I?”  
  
“Yeah, Sammy. But the kid—”  
  
“Want him, too. Do _you_? He likes you. You scare him, but he likes you.”  
  
“Oh. Um. I, uh. Really?”  
  
“My home is with you. I get it. But his is with me. It _will_ work.”  
  
Sam waits. He doesn’t touch Dean. Not yet. His brother needs time. What’s between them is in the open, finally, and there will be fallout, but Sam knows they can do this. It can be good.  
  
For everyone.  
  
The door clatters and Jensen tumbles in, oil-specked. Sam puts his hand out, palm up. The omega approaches shyly, slips under Sam’s arm, peering at Dean. Wary. Sam knows he can sense what’s going on, can smell it on the men.  
  
“Hey,” Dean says, without the awkwardness Sam expects, and he’s surprised again when Dean reaches out and thumbs a drop of grease from Jensen’s lip.


End file.
